In the dungeon, the beatings had stopped for now. Hadrian chewed on a crust of bread like an animal, his hands still chained. For a man who once felt invincible with a belt in his fist, towering over a shivering twelve-year-old, the loss of those hands should sting more than the shackles themselves. At least, that was what Lorraine believed.
And gods, it was almost funny to see him gnaw like a dog when just yesterday he'd demanded to be treated with dignity.
Her gaze shifted to Elyse. The girl stared blankly at the bread on her plate, a glass of water untouched beside it. She hadn't lifted a finger. Perhaps that was Lorraine's fault. After all, when she allowed her a meal previously, she had told Elyse one of the glasses was poisoned. When Elyse, desperate, drank them both and survived, only to be beaten anyway, perhaps something in her finally broke.
Still, she should eat. She couldn't be allowed to starve. At least, not yet. Lorraine had too much planned for Elyse.
